Name: Breeze Tavern, formerly Mary Nora Morrissey

Gender: female

Age: 260

Apparent Age: 22

Place of Birth: Galway, Ireland

Species: Vampire.

Coven: Independent

Appearance: Straight, dark hair, often thought of as black, especially in te dark, where she is mostly seen, however, a closer looks shows a dark brown. Length changes. Though usually worn long, she was fascinated with the bob in the 20's and had a "mid-death crisis" in the early 1990's and cut her hair very short. Large brown eyes she likes to surround with dark dramatic eye makeup. A sad mouth with full lips around white teeth (and fangs of course). She has a slender, slightly small frame, with very pale skin, due to Irish blood and not touching sunlight for 240 years. Her clothing changed throughout the years, though never the color. Black was always her favorite. In the 1800's she wore black funeral dresses. 1900's were plain black dresses, 20's little flapper dresses, spandex and leather jackets in the fifties, tacky vinyl and lace in the 80's. Nowadays, she doesn't overthink her appearance. If it's black and can he hidden in, she'll wear it.

History:

When Mary Morrissey entered this world, she brought death with her.

It was a cold day in February and her poor mother couldn't take the cold air filling her weak lungs and a newborn ripping her way into the world.

That was 260 years ago.

Misery followed young Mary the rest of her mortal days. Her father owned one of the smaller taverns in Galway, Ireland, and drank as well as any of the patrons. Mary washed dishes there until she was thirteen, then sent out to serve as a barmaid. She hated it. All the men smelled and touched her. Her da allowed it. He didn`t care what happened to her. Mary though he secretly blamed her for her ma`s death. In fact, she thought she blamed herself for her death. She'd lay in her cold bed every night, wishing she were somewhere else. Someone else. Anything else.

When she was twenty-two, that wish was granted.

It had been a rough night at the tavern. She'd spilled ale all over the floor, had her rear pinched by every man in the place, and been smacked by Da for not turning in his coins immediately. She needed escape. Air. Just for a moment. She went out the back door to the alley, where their garbage was kept and populated by alley cats. But something felt strange. Everything was very quiet.

And she realized there was not a single cat in the street. An eerie feeling came over her and she suddenly felt chilled, though it was August. She turned to go back inside, and that`s when Mary spotted her.

To this very day, she doesn`t know her name. She was dressed in the most beautiful silk gown Mary had ever seen. Her lustrous blonde curls shined, even in the dark. And her eyes. Clear and blue and . . . frightening.

Mary was curious as to why a fine young noblewoman was around these parts, alone and at night.

"Lose your way, Miss?" Mary asked shyly.

"Perhaps," the woman said, drawing nearer. Her red mouth smiled mysteriously

Mary didn`t know what sort of answer that was, so she said, "Would you like to come inside then? Rest a bit, have a drink?"

Mary never even saw her move. But the next thing she knew, she was being held tightly in the woman's white arms. She smiled widely and it was only then Mary saw the white sharp teeth. "I`ll take me drink here, thank you . . ."

Mary screamed as the monster lowered her teeth to her throat. She felt her neck pierced and hot blood run down her skin. Mary struggled and clawed at her, but she was so strong. She felt weakened, slowly. The last thing she saw was the woman biting a gash into her own wrist before everything went black.

When she awoke, everything was dark. She felt her surroundings and soon realized that she was in a wooden box. She had been buried alive! Her father must have found her bloody and unconscious and assumed. Pre-mature burials were not uncommon then. Mary screamed, pounding at the wood until it cracked. She hit it again and it broke, raining dirt on her. She forced her way up through the soil until her hand burst forth into the night.

She gulped for air but found strangely her lungs didn't crave it. And then she noticed . . . everything.

Her senses were heightened incredibly. She could hear blades of grass move, smell the owls in the trees. It was like she was truly alive for the first time.

"What are ye doing here?"

She looked up. It was the nighttime gravekeeper.

And she felt it.

The hunger. The sound of his heart. The smell of his blood.

She ran her tongue over her teeth and cut it. Fangs.

Mary moaned.

The man drew nearer, noticing her disturbed grave. His eyes widened. "What have you done?!"

She stared at him. The hunger was uncontrollable. She had to have him. Had to! His blood was practically screaming out to her.

Mary rose to her feet. "My birth brings death," she said, shuddering with bloodlust.

He furrowed his eyebrows. She rushed forward, not waiting for him to struggle or scream and bit into him. It was amazing. Intoxicating. Like nothing she could ever even have started to imagine.

When he had been drained, Mary dropped him to the earth and slipped away, silent as the breeze. It was the name she chose to give herself. Breeze, with the surname Tavern to remind herself of her beginnings.

Over the years, Breeze tried to find her sire. She never did. To this day, she doesn`t know if she still lives.

Breeze traveled the world. She saw pyramids and towers, kingdoms and tribes. She saw wars and kings come and go. Man capture lightning and power their new inventions. Coaches became automobiles. Letters to telephones. Books to movie pictures. Trains to airplanes.

And she witnessed it all alone.

It wasn`t until the 1960`s, after a trip to the United States, did she decide to make herself a companion.

She picked a young girl. A "hippie" if you will, named Ryanne. Breeze saw her dancing at a concert, barefoot in a long skirt, beads and flowers weaved through her waist-length blonde hair. She thought nothing more beautiful than capturing that joy and youthfulness and preserving it for all eternity.

After Breeze had turned her, the eighteen-year-old wanted to be called Rain.

Even as a vampire, Rain was happy-go-lucky, and made Breeze smile despite her often brooding nature. Rain liked playing with her victims. Men mostly, a few alternative girls. She`d go on dates with them for a week, letting them touch her knee, kiss her mouth, and finger her blond mane. Then on the night she promised to make love to them, she`d kill them.

Soon, she liked to play "dress-up," checking out the different scenes, posing as one of them to lure someone away. She`d curl up her hair and put on a plaid skirt and play the Catholic school girl in the 70`s. She'd wear black and berets and snap her fingers in coffee shops. One night she sat on a stool in her and Breeze's kitchen and begged Breeze to make her look like a punk. Breeze spent two hours snipping off all of Rain's long hair so that it no longer cascaded over her shoulders and back, but spiked all over, short and severe. They tore her clothes and pierced her nose with a safety pin, then gave her messy makeup. Rain danced when she saw her new look, promising to bring Breeze home a "nice greasy lil` punk rocker." Breeze just smiled and picked up the shorn hair off the floor.

She was the sister Breeze never had.

Rain stayed in the punk scene for quite some time, all the way through the 80`s. She peirced more body parts, shaved her head, and came home talking about all the chaotic things she had been doing. She had found another group of punk-rock vampires and spent entire nights wreaking havoc with them.

"You should come, Breezey. Seriously," Rain told her one night, smoking a ciggarette. "We could peirce your nose. I`ll find you some hot ripped clothes." She got on her knees next to her sire on the couch, pulling Breeze's long black hair straight up. "How sick would you look with a mohawk? I could totally do it for you. About a can of gel for the middle, then just shave all this off. Bzzzzz," she grinned, running both her hands on the sides of the older vampire's head, like they were clippers.

Breeze laughed. "No thank you. Where is it you want me to go anyway?"

Her eyes started to sparkle and she looked at her. "There's this other group of vamps, right? Total posers. Real losers, you know? Well, the other night, they came to the club and fuckin' set the place on fire! So we're all talkin' revenge but no one knows where they nest. Then just last night, Rex announced he found the place they're at. We`re gonna ambush them. Isn`t that cool, Breeze?! We`re gonna get those assholes back."

But Breeze was uneasy with the notion. She swallowed. "Yeah. Cool."

But the night of, the uneasy feeling was stronger. "Hey, Rain? Why don`t you and I do something tonight? It`ll be fun. We`ll hit a movie, eat the people in front of us. Dress like sluts and nab some guys. Then we can eat them back here, watch some crappy movies and you can give me that crazy haircut you were talking about."

She grinned, smearing her black eyeliner. "Tomorrow. You know tonight`s the big night, Breezey."

Breeze sighed and just came out with it. "Look, I just don`t want you to go alright."

Rain looked at her hard. "I`m going. You can`t stop me. You`re my sire, not my mother. You wanna do the bonding thing over movies, dead guys, and me chopping off your hair, fine. I`m more than down with that. But tomorrow. Tonight, I`m gonna have some REAL fun." And she was gone.

Breeze never saw her again.

Word was, the other vampires knew about the ambush. They doubled their forces. Took the others by surprise. Five vampires from Rain's side made it out.

Rain wasn`t one of them.

Breeze gave her new life. And death had followed that too.

She never sired anyone after that. She never convened with anyone after that. She felt the pain was too great.

Until now.

She heard of a city. Demaitre. Populated by humans, true, but she also heard a large population of vampires dwelled there as well. She lit a match to the old apartment and left, on her way to the city.

Maybe if she goes, she can be lost. Lost in the faces. Lost of the past.

Lost of the pain.

A new birth for her.

Or maybe a new death.

First off let me just say that you have a wonderful writting style that I've enjoyed reading a lot. Now that said, let me also say that I'd like more out of your history. That is to say that here at Vital we've kind of started to crack down on "just because" vampires.

That just means that I would like to know more about Mary's sire. Mary herself doesn't have to know the details, but it would be nice to know exactly what her sire had in mind in making her a vampire. This is just sort of a pet peeve that has developed and well yeah it helps expand on your character as a whole and round them in terms of development.

Is Mary's sire still alive? If so is there a chance that she would want to see her again? Is there hate between them? I'd just like you to answer a few of these questions is all.

Sure! I've actually thought about the Mary's sire before and come up with some ideas, but never wrote them all out. But this gives me the perfect opportunity to.